Chapter 290: The Order She Couldn’t Take Back
Victoria knew exactly which order Raze meant.
She had given it in a secluded cave as Cascade Valley’s West Bank battle collapsed, after Raze blamed himself for losing to Emperoar. Ashy had still been waiting for him when Victoria left.
"Say it," Raze said.
"No."
Several officers turned from the cauldron. Even the alchemist stopped moving.
Raze pushed away from the ruined table. "You were comfortable saying it when nobody else could hear."
"The formula is still active," Victoria replied. "Close the cauldrons. Secure the evidence. After that, you can accuse me of anything you want."
"Anything?" His mouth pulled tight beneath the white-fanged half-mask. "You still think the problem is how I phrase it."
Before Victoria could answer, the recruitment officer near the wall stepped forward. Three crossed lines on his insignia marked the academy shelves under his management, and the badge’s edges had worn pale with use.
"You disappeared after Cascade Valley," he said. "Raze rebuilt the combat parties while I tried to stop more people from walking out. We only heard from you when you wanted another target."
Beside the recalled stock, the quartermaster checked the seal on the black case before turning to Victoria.
"Every order came with a budget and the return you wanted," she said. "Equipment, replacement weapons, recruitment bonuses. When we asked what happened to the beasts used for the new class, nobody answered."
Victoria looked from her to the recruitment officer. "If you wanted answers, why did you keep supplying this room?"
The quartermaster’s expression hardened. "Because Raze answered when we called. You sent budgets. He gave us targets and rewards people could use. You told us results mattered, and he was the one getting them."
The combat players left their weapons sheathed. None of them needed to threaten Victoria while the quartermaster guarded the stock and the recruitment officer stood with Raze. Their choice had already been made.
A combat captain spoke from beside the stairs, a scarred shield strapped across his back.
"Your level was too low to fight beside us, but you still chose where we bled. Raze fought with us and gave the guild victories. None of us expected answers from you anymore."
He glanced toward the damaged cabinets and the warped shelf Martin had forced aside.
"Then Flash Fang recorded this room, Emperoar died protecting the evidence, and you finally came in person."
Victoria let the accusation stand. She had ignored the project until Kumoe nearly died and Martin’s report showed her what the laboratory was becoming. She had no answer that would not sound like an excuse.
"This batch gives you a method you can repeat," she said. "Whatever you think of me, you know what that means for every bonded beast brought here."
The captain did not move. "It means players will have another class to chase."
"It means this guild will teach them to build a bond for the purpose of destroying it."
Raze stepped around the broken table. The tracking glow Rias had shattered no longer shone from his left shoulder, but the damaged armor still carried the shape of the beast he had sacrificed.
"Ashy," he said.
Victoria’s gaze settled on the pale eye worked into the pauldron.
"You remember the name," Raze continued. "That’s more respect than you showed back then."
"I remember."
"Then say what you told me to do."
Raze wanted the room listening while she repeated the order. Victoria would not give him that.
"I am telling you what to do now," she said. "End the program."
Raze’s mouth tightened beneath the half-mask.
"You’re still talking like your authorization matters," he said. "It doesn’t. This stopped being yours while you were away."
He opened Just Die’s combat roster and spread its officer permissions across the air between them. Victoria’s name still occupied the top line.
"The roster calls you our leader," Raze said. "Ask anyone here whose orders they follow."
The guard with the damaged arm shifted closer to the stairs and blocked the open route behind her. When Victoria looked at him, he dropped his eyes but did not move.
"You kept my name because the sponsor seal still opened doors," Victoria said.
"Your name opened them. We did the work."
Now she understood why Raze had never removed her title. Just Die kept Victoria’s sponsorship and clean public record while he took control of everything that produced results.
Raze looked past her toward the central cauldron. "Finish the batch."
The hesitant alchemist drew a slow breath and reached into the black case. His hands still shook, but he no longer hesitated.
Victoria stepped toward him, and the combat captain moved into her path without drawing his weapon.
"Do not touch that stock," she said.
The alchemist opened the case anyway. He removed the recalled Clearthread Pair and Bedrock Accord vials carrying the CC-L17 marker, then secured them inside a narrow separation frame. As heat passed through the glass, clear liquid evaporated along one branch while a dark-red thread collected in the lower chamber.
[CC-L17 Live-Bond Carrier recovered.]
Every previous attempt to make the carrier hold two incompatible signatures had failed. From beneath the tray, the alchemist produced a thin inspection ampoule filled with silver-blue residue.
The ampoule should have been logged as test waste from the single shaving consumed during Rias’s nonbinding appraisal. Instead, someone on the public side had scraped silver-blue residue from the treated vials, relabeled it, and moved it through the CC-L17 recall route before the licensing desk froze the materials.
Rias still held the sealed crystal fragment and its written appraisal. The laboratory had stolen only the waste left by the test, leaving the crystal itself in Night Espresso’s possession.
The alchemist broke the ampoule over the lower chamber. Blue light spread through the live-bond carrier in thin, branching lines. The mixture shuddered on the verge of separation before pulling itself together again.
[High-density blue mana crystal residue accepted.]
[Bridge destabilization reduced.]
The central cauldron gave a low chime. Above its rim, formula lines rose, duplicated, and settled into matching sequences instead of collapsing after the first linked signature.
[Repeatable alchemical lineage recognition has begun.]